Pilgrim by Sara Douglas

As he watched they broke asunder, and a surging tide of maddened animals seethed

through into the streets of Carlon.

Then he, as WingRidge, jumped in further surprise.

A peal of bells had sounded over the burning city.

Goldman gritted his teeth and hoped he remembered the correct clarion. The guildsmen

of Carlon lived their days according to the dictates of the sundry guildhall bells. The bells rang

out the hours, the workday, the holidays, the watches, the curfew, and—unknown to most of the

aristocracy of the city—they also rang out coded messages.

Goldman had learned the code and the method of ringing as a child, but he‘d not done

this for many years, and he hoped that he got the code right.

He rang a clarion of escape, of doorways, and of location. The bells demanded that

guild-folk everywhere hark to their message, and move those they were with through the streets

and whatever buildings still stood towards the doorways. Into his clarion, Goldman put something a little bit extra. A bit of depth. A degree of compulsion. Anyone hearing the bells,

and understanding their message, would be forced to act.

Goldman finished a clarion and paused to heave in some breath. Had any heard? Had

they understood? Had—

From somewhere else in the fiery, smoke-filled city, another clarion of bells rang out.

Goldman grinned weakly in relief. Someone had heard him, and he had got the message right, for now a guildsman far distant was repeating the message.

Another set of bells started, slightly closer this time, and Goldman laughed out loud as he

saw a man hustle his family and neighbours down a steep ladder from their roof and lead them

towards the building where Goldman had erected his doorway.

Another family rushed from a doorway.

Not everyone would understand the bells, but there would be enough guildsmen to

interpret.

ProudFlight appeared in the street, glanced up at the window where Goldman‘s face was

framed, and beckoned him down.

―We have trouble,‖ ProudFlight said tersely as Goldman joined him.

―What?‖

ProudFlight did not have time to answer, for at that moment a huge pig ran around a

corner, its hooves scrabbling for purchase on the cobbles.

In the distance, a woman screamed. The sound was cut off halfway through.

―The gates have fallen,‖ ProudFlight said, and Goldman felt cold fear slither through his

belly.

―Gustus!‖ Drago yelled, ―continue with the evacuation! Herme! Follow me!‖

―What can we do?‖ Herme said, running after Drago as he rushed through the door.

Once outside their progress slowed. The hallways of the palace were full of people

moving towards the enchanted doorway, and Drago, Herme, and the feathered lizard which had

followed its master, had to push bodily though.

Its crest was held high, and it had ruffled out its feathers so that it appeared a third again

as large.

―What can we do?‖ Drago said harshly. ―Not much, save protect these people as well as

we are able.‖

WingRidge caught up with them. ―Do you want me to take the Lake Guard away from

their duties helping those trapped?‖

Drago shook his head. ―Their only hope is to get through that doorway as fast as they

can. WingRidge, if you serve me as you say you do, then get those people through!‖

WingRidge nodded curtly, then vanished among the crowd.

―And what are we going to do, Drago?‖ Herme asked.

―Against several hundred thousand maddened beasts? Well, I don‘t intend to hold them

off single-handedly, if that‘s what you thought, Herme. Come on! No time for detailed

explanations.‖

And what would he do? Drago thought as he and Herme jerked to a halt in the courtyard

of the palace. Outside the courtyard gates they could see the streets seething with a mass of

animals and as they watched several sheep, a goat and a half-grown bitch ran inside the gates,

snuffling carefully about the shadows.

He could draw another doorway—but where could he send them? Wherever he chose, he

would risk a mass of them escaping into Spiredore…and that thought did not bear thinking

about, not with thousands of Acharites passing through each minute.

―Drago?‖ Herme prompted. One of the sheep had spotted them, and stood completely

still in the centre of the courtyard, staring.

Its lower jaw fell open and it drooled.

Somewhere in a distant street a man screeched in horrified surprise, wailed in agony, and

then fell silent.

― Drago? ‖

The sheep took a step forward, and then another one.

Drago‘s hand tightened about the staff, but he called forth no enchantment.

What should he do? Gods, but he wished he‘d not sent Katie back to Sanctuary!

The sheep suddenly launched an attack. It leapt forward, wailing, its teeth bared, bloody

foam frothing from its mouth. Its movement attracted the attention of the other sheep, the goat

and the bitch, and they, too, slunk slackjawed towards where Drago and Herme stood in the

doorway.

―For gods‘ sakes, man!‖ Herme said, grabbing Drago‘s arm. ― Get back inside! ‖

In answer, Drago seized Herme, pushed him back through the door, and pulled it shut.

In the same instant the sheep reached him, and in one smooth movement Drago brought

the staff around and cracked the sheep over the head with it. The lizard sunk its teeth into the

wool at the sheep‘s throat and began to shake the creature.

Drago flinched as bloody foam from the sheep‘s mouth splattered across his face, then,

coming to an instant decision, altered his grip about the staff, and then drew a symbol in the air.

The lizard, still with his jaws locked into the sheep‘s neck, struggled to raise a foreclaw,

but Drago grabbed it.

―No.‖

The sheep convulsed, and bloody specks flew through the air. Drago ducked his head to

try and avoid them, and then fell to the ground as the goat leaped over lizard and sheep, its teeth

snapping a bare handspan from Drago‘s face.

The goat hit the closed door with an audible thud, landing on its side on the stone step

and rolling heavily against Drago.

Drago struck it a heavy blow to the head, and had raised the staff again when he—as

every other living creature within Carlon, sane or not—halted transfixed.

A heavy voice sounded over the city. It was thick and menacing, and sounded as if it

spoke through…water.

Attend!

Both sheep and goat stopped struggling, and the other creatures in the courtyard froze.

Attend!

Drago slowly raised himself to his feet. He put a hand on the lizard‘s head, and it released

the sheep, standing itself and looking about. Every creature they could see had stopped in its

tracks. Eyes were narrowed, ears cocked, heads tilted to one side.

Listening.

I command you, attend!

No-one noticed Drago‘s lips moving very, very slightly.

The pig had been about to attack Goldman and ProudFlight when the voice sounded.

It stopped some three paces from where both men huddled against a wall, ProudFlight

with his sword drawn, and turned very slightly towards the Lake side of the city, listening

intently.

I command you, attend!

―What is that?‖ ProudFlight said, shaking his head slightly.

Goldman tilted his head and spoke very, very quietly into ProudFlight‘s ear. ―It is an

enchantment.‖

Faraday had also halted. The room she stood in was packed with people about to move

through the doorway, now standing still and confused.

As Goldman, she recognised the voice for what it was.

―Quick, go through!‖ she said, putting her hand in the small of the back of the person

standing next to her and pushing none too gently. ―Quick, or the people behind you will die!‖

The line began moving again.

The brown and cream badger raised his snout from the remains of the old woman he‘d

cornered coming out of a doorway, and snuffled the air.

I command you, attend!

Like Goldman, Faraday and the other two women now also herding their charges through

the enchanted doorways with renewed urgency, the badger recognised the voice as a sham. An

enchantment, although he was not sure of the mechanics or origins of its making.

No! No! he commanded, Do not attend. This is—

He got no further. A clutch of cows hurtled about the corner and knocked him against the

wall.

They did not stop, nor even look at their commander.

They were attending the voice.

Within moments the majority of the animals and demented humans which had invaded

Carlon were dashing back the way they‘d come, slipping and sliding in their haste to obey. Some

ran straight into burning buildings in their haste, re-emerging on fire, and setting fire to their

companions thronging the streets leading back to the main city gates.

No! No! the badger cried, but it was too late, they would not listen to him, they were

desperate…desperate…desperate…and the voice became more insistent, far more commanding.

They were running for the Lake to attend the Maze which surely was about to rise at any